


Say Hello, Wave Goodbye

by romanticalgirl



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 11:54:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/761022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Originally posted 8-13-09</p>
    </blockquote>





	Say Hello, Wave Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted 8-13-09

Nate smiles at Brad. He knows his cheeks are flushed, and he's feeling better every minute, the mantle of command slipping from his shoulders more and more with ever shot the guys place in his hands. He's had too much to drink and he knows it, knows he should stop, but it's easy now to let all of these men - his brothers, his friends - know how he feels about them. This doesn't have the somber finality of his paddle party, but the loose, raucous feel of celebration.

Poke gave him a horrid orange tie straight out of the seventies that he draped over Nate's head, and Q-tip told him he needed a pimp hat and then slapped a fedora on his head. Ray informed him he looked about twelve and asked him how he felt about NAMBLA. The rest of the guys just bought him drinks and wished him well.

Except Brad.

Brad is sitting at the bar, watching them all have fun while he sips his beer quietly. They're used to Brad being a little stand-offish when they're all together. He's not the type to swing from the rafters or lose control. But Nate can't help looking at him from time to time, trying to judge from the occasional shouts of response to someone else's mocking or from the sly curve of his lips whether or not Brad's having any fun.

"So." Nate slides onto the stool next to Brad, only Brad's grip on his elbow keeping him from sliding right off the other side. "You having fun at my party?"

"A grand old time, sir."

"You can't call me that anymore." Nate raises his hand to point at Brad, realizes he's facing the wrong direction and turns around. "I'm just Nate Fick. Civilian at large."

"Large what, homes?" Ray clasps Nate's shoulder and shakes Nate like he's a batch of martinis. "If you're talking about Brad, we'll just assume it's his dick."

"Just because you like watching me jack off, Ray, doesn't mean you have to share the information with everyone."

"Who wouldn't want to watch you jack off, Brad. You're like a fucking Adonis. You and Rudy could start a Hot Marines calendar, give all the gays of the world something worth jerking off to."

Nate blinks, trying to focus, lost somewhere alone the slope of Brad's neck. He's spent hours wondering what Brad's skin tastes like, what it feels like. He's known Brad for what seems like forever now, war warping time for all of them, and he's never touched him. Not on purpose.

Nate reaches out, runs his fingers along Brad's jaw. Brad jerks his attention back to Nate and wraps his fingers tight around Nate's wrist. "Don't."

Nate frowns, the skin between his eyes furrowing. "Why not?"

"Because you're about to fly across the country, I'm about to leave the country, and starting something right now isn't anywhere in my plans."

"Would I be starting something?" Nate asks softly, glancing down at Brad's hand still wrapped around his wrist, Brad's thumb rubbing a soft rhythm over Nate's pulse.

"See if Harvard can teach you the answer to that," Brad says softly as he releases Nate's wrist and gets to his feet. "And burn that tie. That thing is fucking hideous."


End file.
